A Spoonful of Ice Cream
by Wolfbrin
Summary: Jaune was never much of a hero, nor was Neo. It was rather unfortunate then, that their lives continued to throw them into the worse of circumstances. How are the owner of an ice cream parlor and an individual being blackmailed into a personal assassin for an infamous thief going to survive?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I feel as though it goes without saying, but I don't own RWBY.**

 **The full title to this story is: A Spoonful of Ice Cream Makes The Medicine Go Down.**

 **This story came up from the profile of Coeur Al'Aran. I reached out about a two years ago to ask if I could write this story. He gave me permission (Obviously), and it has taken me this long to actually begin writing the story.**

 **This story is a Slight AU. This chapter takes place about 3 years before the beginning of the first Volume.**

 **In all likelihood, there will be some time between story updates. I am a 19-year old college student and this is only a slight hobby of mine. Don't worry, I won't abandon this story, but you probably don't care about any of this. So, onto the story.**

* * *

 _Journal Entry:_

 _From the Personal Diary of R.R._

 _May 26, 20XX_

I feel like I should preface this entry with some witty statement. To do otherwise would probably be a detriment to the nature of this story and of the individuals that it concerns. I know that they would want me to say something clever. Unfortunately, I don't quite think that I am up to that task right now. This particular story is still too fresh in my mind for me to be comfortable making any joke in particular. I suppose that all of this doesn't quite matter in the end. I...keep pausing as I write these words down. I don't truly feel at ease with my ability to tell this story, but I need to do it for them. I have managed to compile this story from a variety of personal journal entries I found, reports about the individuals in question, interviews of people who knew them, and through my own experiences.

This tale doesn't really include people that could be considered Heroes in a traditional sense. Our heroes aren't people that can make clones of themselves, control metal, or do anything that is considered normal for the average Huntsman and Huntresses. They never had any formal combat training and both of them tended to look out for themselves as opposed to anyone else. That's not to say that they were bad people necessarily, they were just determined to survive even in the worst of situations. One was willing to break the law to achieve his goal and the other was willing to

I think that that is what makes me admire them so much. The two of them managed to not only survive, but even thrive. That is what makes this story so important to me. All too often, we hear of the amazing hero that goes into a mountain to slay the eldritch monstrosity that is threatening a nearby frontier village. Tales are told of that hero, but we never hear of the people struggling to survive. We never hear of the bartender that tells the hero of the monster. That is what makes this story so essential. We hear of the hero, but not of the people that made it possible for that hero to succeed.

I am Ruby Rose and this is the story of Neopolitan and Jaune Arc.

* * *

 _Jaune_

* * *

As I exited the Bullhead on shaky legs, I felt my lunch begin to rise in my throat. I managed to swallow it back down as I took in Beacon. I was awestruck at the school and I already knew that a wide smile was beginning to creep onto my face. I slowly began to walk towards the school, my head on swivel to let me take in all that was around me. I saw the long path that led into the main entrance of the school with a statue of my great-great-grandfather standing proud. He was what made me want to be a hero. I had promised long ago that I would uphold my dream of being a hero, now I could finally achieve that dream.

I stood in front of the statue as I saw the figure of a woman approach me out of the corner of my eye. I turned to get a better look at her. She was a blonde woman, wearing a pair of thin, oval-shaped glasses in front of bright green eyes. She was wearing a white, pleated top with a black and purple cape hanging from her shoulders. In her right hand, she was holding a whip; her face was stern and I couldn't help the nervous feeling that rose up like a tidal wave in my stomach.

She tilted her head towards me and said, "Hello, Mr. Arc. If you would be so kind as to follow me? There is a slight issue regarding the transcripts that you had sent in."

She turned sharply on her heel and began to march away. I stood paralyzed for a brief moment, but I shook it off quickly and jogged to keep up with the woman.

"Excuse me," I heard myself say, "But who exactly are you?"

She looked slightly surprised for an instant, but I blinked and the look had disappeared, a composed mask replacing it.

"I am Professor Glynda Goodwitch and I am the Combat Instructor as well as the Deputy Headmistress of Beacon."

" **Oh,** " She didn't spare me a glance as I let out an eloquent response.

I winced as my voice cracked in front of a potential teacher; of course, I never would be lucky enough to have my voice crack when I was alone. I thought I saw the corners of her mouth turn up slightly, but I blinked and it was gone just like before.

As we headed deeper into the school, I began to feel the walls of the school press down on me. We eventually came to a long hallway full of closed wooden doors. As we began to pass the doors, I noticed that on each of the doors, there was a golden plaque with a name on each of them. One of them said Port, another one said Oobleck, and we came to a stop in front of one that said Goodwitch. The Professor held the the door open for me and I stepped inside, the stern woman following behind me.

The office was sparsely decorated, with the only objects of any note being a bookshelf and a rather simple wooden desk. The desk had only a large stack of paperwork and the stereotypical cup filled with pens. The Professor walked around the desk to sit in a leather chair. She sat straight, her hands folded in front of her on the desk. She looked at me with a rather peculiar expression. It seemed as though she was somewhat angry for whatever she seemed to be preparing herself to say.

She let out a long sigh and her shoulders appeared to dip slightly, "I apologize Mr. Arc, but we were unable to fully verify the nature of the transcripts that you had submitted to Beacon."

I felt myself freeze and I leaned against the hard back of the wooden chair as my heart plunged further into my chest. I couldn't control the shaking of my hands, so I gripped the armrests hard enough to turn my knuckles white. I felt my mouth grow dry as I fully took in the words that she had said to me.

In an instant, I had been caught. I was going to go to jail and I would never be able to become a hero. I was never going to be able to see my family again and it was all because I had decided to bluff my way into Beacon. I should have known that those transcripts that I had miraculously managed to find were fake. It had seemed like such a simple and good idea at the time.

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, "-rc? Mr. Arc, are you alright? I know that this is a...difficult situation to take in. I apologize, but due to the circumstances, Beacon is unable to let you in at this time. It is not unheard of for those that recommended a student to an academy to renounce that approval later."

I tried to smile, but I couldn't muster the usual confidence that I tried to show to people. The Professor gave me a gentle and sympathetic smile in return.

"If you would like, I could arrange for housing until this matter is cleared?"

"No, I don't think that that would be best."

She stared at me for a long while, her lips pursed together.

"Very well then, Mr. Arc, if you do not believe that to be the best course of action, I will leave the matter in your hands. I believe that is all we needed to discuss."

I nodded, somewhat shakily, and got up to leave. As I turned my back, I heard a voice call put from behind me, "Mr. Arc, I do wish you the best of luck in your upcoming ventures. Do you require any assistance in navigating back to the Bullhead?"

I clenched my hands tightly, feeling the nails bite into the palms on my hands. I breathed out, trembling, "Thank you, Professor, but I can find my way back on my own."

Upon reaching the door, I pulled it open and exited into the hallway. I walked the long way, trapped in my own thoughts. Unfortunately, I didn't notice the man in front of me until I collided with him. Snapping back to reality in an instant, I noticed that the man had dropped a mug of coffee on the ground, some of it splashing onto his pant legs.

"Oh, I am so sorry sir," I cried out, "I should have paid more attention to where I was going."

The man seemed in total shock for a moment, his gaze constantly switching between me and the coffee that was flowing between the lines in the tiled pathway. The man cleared his throat rather loudly, and his eyes appeared to glisten slightly.

"Sir, if you don't mind me asking...are you alright?"

The man shook his head, as if to snap himself into reality, "Yes, Mr. Arc. I am quite alright. I was wishing to apologize on behalf of Beacon for the circumstances regarding your transcripts."

I lowered my gaze to the ground, taking in the shattered pieces of the mug. I absently noted that on a few of the pieces, it looked as though the seal of Beacon was printed on them.

The man spoke once more to say, "Mr. Arc, I know that this may seem sudden, especially given the fact that term would begin in a few days. If there is anything that Beacon can do for you in the days to come, please don't hesitate to ask."

I nodded mutely, thanked him for his generosity, and continued my trek to the Bullhead that would take me back to Vale.

What would I do now?

* * *

 _Ozpin_

* * *

I stared at Mr. Arc's retreating back, hearing the footsteps of Glynda behind me. She paused behind me, the both of us standing in silence as we watched the young man walk away.

"Why did you bring him here just to send him away?"

I kept my gaze on Mr. Arc as I marshalled my thoughts together, "Mr. Arc's ultimate place is not here. I will not let another innocent life be brought into this game, particularly given the fact that he has had very little training. At least this way, he will be dissuaded from taking this path."

"You allowed his dreams to be shattered just so you could save his life?"

"That is not my entire justification for why I did what I did."

"What do you mean?"

I let my breath whistle through my lips as I carefully measured my responses.

"Even should Mr. Arc attend Beacon, I could not guarantee his safety. Particularly given the fact that it is doubtful his aura has been unlocked. Should Mr. Arc make it through Initiation, I am unsure of the strength and talents of this year's applicants. The inclusion of Mr. Arc on a team could potentially result in the deaths of him and his teammates. That above all things, is something that I am not willing to consider as a viable option. I will not have any deaths that could have been prevented on my hand."

Glynda said nothing as she took in my response. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her open her mouth as if to say something. She paused and finally noticed the spilt coffee that had seeped through the cracks and lines in the pathway. She gave a slight smile that would be near imperceptible to those that didn't know her.

"It's not funny," I said, my voice coming out a bit harsher than I had originally intended.

"I never said it was," Her smile still on her face, "But, perhaps you'll be able to help me with all the paperwork that I seem to be acquiring nowadays."

I gave a slight huff.

"Speaking of paperwork, I have some that needs to be done as usual."

As Glynda walked away, I looked down at my shattered cup.

"And that was my favorite mug too...," I murmured.

By this time, the young man had long since departed from the Academy. I could only hope that I had made the right decision. I scoffed to myself. It seemed like all I could do these days was hope. I would only hope that I could do what was best for the people of Remnant. Even if that decision made those I cared for condemn me.

* * *

 **And that's it for now. We have heard from Jaune and Ozpin so far. Jaune has just had his hopes and dreams shattered and Ozpin has given some clarification on why exactly Jaune was excluded from Beacon. As for how Ozpin found out about Jaune's search for transcripts...well...just wait and see. All will be revealed in time. Now, I believe that this is all for now.**

 **Expect the next part up in a few days. Please leave a review telling me what you think, it would really help with the development of this story! See ya.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Situation still remains unchanged, despite the aggressive negotiations done by my lawyer. I can't buy the remaining Blockbusters. Oh, and I don't own RWBY, I guess?**

 **Thanks for all the support from the last chapter! It was really nice. Originally, this was going to be two separate chapters, but I decided to splice them together so you could see what it's like with the two narrative styles.**

* * *

 _"What about her? She's absolutely fantastic, I have nothing bad to say about her at all. I think she's the best person on the face of the planet. I would never insult her at all."_

 _"How can you say any of that?"_

 _"She can be anywhere or anyone. I'd rather not take my chances and be stabbed."_

 _"Screw her, I'm not gonna take any crap from that short-stack!"_

 _-Two White Fang guards shortly before being stabbed._

* * *

 _Neo_

* * *

I stood about ten feet from the stand, casually leaning against a nearby wall. I stared at a distant stand off to the side, keeping the merchant in my peripheral view. I could feel my hands shake slightly, adrenaline coursing through my blood. I could hear a dull sort of roar in my ears as I let out a shuddering breath. My hands were shaking, and I hated myself for it. I looked down, glaring at both of my hands. I cursed in my head, calming myself down as best I could.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a young blue-haired girl approach the stand. The merchant greeted her with a wide smile as she hugged his waist tightly. A daughter then? That would definitely make this a lot easier for me. She appeared to be around my size, if a little taller and heavier set. The two spoke for a while longer, before the girl turned away and began to walk towards me.

As she passed me, I pushed myself off the wall, shrugging my shoulders. It was showtime.

I followed the girl for a little while down the road away from the market square. I paused every now and again to allow space between the two of us to build. During these pauses, I would look into the displays for all of the stores. Gradually, the crowds began to thin out as we got into a more affluent portion of the city. I began to walk faster in an attempt to catch up to the girl. As I came up to the girl, I noticed an alleyway up ahead. I rolled my eyes at how cliche the whole situation seemed. As the two of us drew nearer, I slammed my heel into the back of her knee. Completely unprepared for my assault, she stumbled slightly. I swiftly wrapped my arm around the girl's mouth and nose attempting to choke her out. She froze, panic beginning to set in.

The young girl began to thrash around, attempting to throw me off. I began to fall forward, using my body weight to assist in suffocating the girl by bringing her to the ground. Her struggles began to slow as I kept my knee pressed against her back. The girl was clearly an untrained civilian, which was good for me. It would be rather disappointing and unfortunate if I ended up attacking a Huntress-in-training. While I could probably win, it would make things inconvenient for me for a little while. I waited for the young girl to stop struggling before I began to ease off of her back. I grabbed the girl under her shoulders, dragging her back into the darkness of the alleyway.

I almost felt pity for the poor girl, but I had my own problems to deal with. Like paying rent and buying ice cream mainly. I patted down the girl, quickly finding a scroll and a small clutch purse full of Lien. I grabbed the scroll, throwing it down to the ground as hard as I possibly could. It shattered into shards of glass and other technology parts, scattering on the dirty alley. For good measure, I stomped on what little pieces remained. Taking the chips, I stuffed them into a bag attached to my hip. I took a closer look at the girl's purse, finding a learner's permit; taking a closer look at the ID revealed the girl to be ' _Violet Ostri'_. I focused on the picture, feeling the illusion wash over my body.

Shaking my head, I could almost feel my hair change coloration, my body changing shape to that of Violet's. It felt as though a ball of slime was dropped on my head, sinking into my hair and body. I shivered, feeling absolutely vile. I almost considered taking her clothes, just to complete the illusion, but even I'm not that much of a monster. I would never leave a young girl unconscious and almost nude, even more so if she was in a situation that meant she couldn't protect herself.

Letting out a quiet sigh, I began to trek back to marketplace.

* * *

As I entered the market square, my usual swagger changed into a joyful skip. I brought a fake smile on my face, the merchant catching my eyes. His face broke into a grin.

"Back so soon? I thought you had studying to do, sweetie?"

I shook my head, using the motion to spread an illusion of myself to everyone around me. I carefully took a step away, the man's eyes staying place on my former location. Building confidence, I increased my pace; I stood behind the stall, noticing a tiny box on the lower part of the stall. That's probably where he kept his cash, but to get to it, I needed the man to get out of my way. I forced my illusion to spread open its arms, miming a hug to the man.

He gave a crooked smile, "Well, if you wanna keep givin' me hugs today, you're gunna have to come over here!"

I let out a quiet growl as I threw my hands into the air, exasperation getting the better of me. I forced my illusion to do the same motion again. The man gave a mock huff as he strolled over to my illusion. I darted forward, grabbing the box. I ripped it open and began shoving chips into the bag, pausing as I heard a distant scream. I doubted I could be that unlucky, but Violet came screeching into square, only pausing when she saw my illusion. The merchant was taken aback, his gaze constantly changing between the real and the fake Violets. The money in my bag, I stepped up behind the man tapping him on the shoulder allowing my illusion to fade at the same time. The man turned around in total shock, his mouth constantly opening and closing like a fish.

I blinked, letting my eyes shift from the magenta of Violet's to my usual pink and brown. The merchant froze, "What the hell...?"

I launched forward, driving my knee into the man's groin. He bent over, his hands falling down to grab at his crotch, mouth open in a silent scream. I took a few steps back, my palm placed upon my chest. I sank into a low bow, a wide smirk splitting my face. The man rose unsteadily to his feet, "I don't know who you think you're dealing with-"

I rolled my eyes, content to ignore the man. I turned around, breaking into a sprint. As I passed a corner, I turned on a dime, envisioning my apartment. I closed my eyes and jumped. I never noticed the wide-eyed redhead watching everything. The redhead regained his composure, reaching down to pull out a cigar. Placing the cigar in his mouth, he flicked open a lighter.

As he lit the cigar, he briefly spoke, "Well, isn't that interesting?"

* * *

Teleportation isn't as easy as one may think. It certainly isn't without its dangers. If I attempted to 'jump' to a place I was unfamiliar with, I could end up as a messy smear of viscera and blood strewn across Remnant. The same was true if I arrived at a location already inhabited by someone else. I had heard horrific rumors of individuals with their own Spatial-Manipulation Semblances ending up in such situations. Furthermore, teleportation was a horribly disorienting feeling if one wasn't used to it. When I had first found my Semblance, I remember a feeling that was not dissimilar to a flash-bang going off inside of my mouth. My head formed a migraine as I collapsed on the ground, clutching my knees to my chest.

I hated that feeling, but I knew that if I wanted to hone my skills, I needed to train. When I began my training, I could only make one or two jumps at max before I fell into a deep pit of pain. Even to this day, prolonged use of that side of my Semblance leads to a dull, pulsating headache at best and an agonizing migraine at worst.

With a sound like shattering glass, I fell out of the portal. I landed somewhat shakily, already feeling a slight headache build up; I reached up, rubbing my brow. Sucking in a breath, I glanced around my apartment. It was a small place, but I didn't need anything too special. When you stepped into the apartment, the kitchen was to the right of the door with the living room to the left. The living room only had a plush, brown couch and a huge television set. I should spoil myself more. The entirety of the apartment was carpeted in a terrible off-white color that was mottled and stained in random portions.

I crossed the apartment quickly, swinging open the door to my room. I lazily threw the bag in, the sack flopping open on the bed. Lien spilled out as I sauntered to the mattress. Spinning around, I fell back onto the black and white striped comforter. Upon impact, the chips flew up into the air, some of them landing on my chest. Closing my eyes, I kicked off my boots as I began to reach over to the bag. I began to idly count the money, coming up to little over a thousand. Not at all bad for a day's work, I thought as I crossed my arms behind my head, beginning to drift off. I deserved a nap right about now.

* * *

 _Jaune_

* * *

I felt uncomfortably cold as I walked through the warm streets of Vale. I really should have taken Professor Goodwitch's and that odd man's offers. At least then, I wouldn't be stumbling through the roads on my own with no clue of where to go. I absolutely loathed the idea of going back to my family, especially given the fact that I had run off on my own.

Running off to be on my own probably wouldn't be so bad, if I hadn't taken Crocea Mors from my family. In all likelihood, this whole situation was karmic backlash for stealing a Hunter's weapon to become a professional Huntsman. Oh the bitter irony. Even I couldn't fail to see the humor in that, despite how much it sucked for me.

I tried to count what little I had in the way of supplies and personal belongings. It was a rather pitiful list. I had Crocea Mors, my usual clothes, a backpack filled with clothes and a few of my _X-Ray and Vav_ comics, and a wallet filled what little Lien I had managed to gather before I ran. I rubbed the back of my head nervously.

Out of nowhere, someone slammed into my back.

It was a green-haired girl and she looked back at me with wide, red eyes, "I'm so sorry, sir! I should have been paying more attention to where I was going!"

"Oh, it's alright," I attempted to confidently laugh it off, but I had an odd feeling that I wasn't too successful, "Uh...have a good day, I guess?"

I turned around to continue on my path, sparing a single glance behind me. I was surprised to see that the strange girl had mysteriously vanished without a trace. I wasn't quite sure of what to make of the situation, but I tried to shrug it off as best as I could.

As I went further along the road, I noted that there was an ice cream shop by me. I stared at the shop for a long while, unsure of what exactly would be the best thing to do. On one hand, I really wanted to sit down somewhere and have something to eat a bunch of ice cream. On the other hand, I had to save as much money as I could and not waste it on things that I didn't really need. Nodding to myself, I came to a decision.

Pulling open the door, I entered the shop. I figured that the best thing to do would be to get something to eat, even if it wasn't really healthy.

As I walked into the shop, I was slightly surprised to see that the shop was empty, excluding a man standing behind the counter. In all probability, what surprised me most was the fact that it looked like a bomb had gone off inside most of the store. The untouched section of the shop's floor was made of a dark-colored wood, the walls painted a neutral beige. On most of the walls, splotches of a dark material were splattered on the upper portion of the walls. The tables in the restaurant were a polished metal with the chairs being metal as well, the seats made of a white leather. One of the tables had completely frozen solid and the chairs nearest to the table were warped and twisted apart.

I looked around the store and I decided that the best thing to do would probably be to leave the place as fast as I possibly could. The shop seemed to be in a bit of a rough shape. Nodding to myself, I spun around to exit.

As I pushed upon the door to head outside, I heard a voice call out from behind me, "Hey, kid? What can I get you today?"

I turned back towards the counter, my eyes widening. The man who had spoken was an older guy, his short, dark brown hair peppered with streaks of silver running through the sides. He had a beard that was neatly trimmed close to his face. He wore a black apron over a white shirt that had had its sleeves rolled up. On his apron, noticing upon closer inspection that a silver name-tag read _Morgan_.

"Kid?"

Crossing the ruined shop and stepping up to the counter, I looked down to see all of the ice creams that he had. I saw all of the usual flavors, chocolate, vanilla, and more, but on a few of the flavors, there was a little sign saying 20-30% proof.

"Uh...yeah. I'll have vanilla?" He peered at my face, as if thinking over a question to himself. He paused slightly, gaze drifting to version of vanilla that had a little sign by it. He came to a decision and asked his next question, "Would you like that in a cup or cone?"

I thought about it for a moment, before saying, "Cup, I guess?"

"Would you like that in a small, medium, or large?"

"Medium."

He nodded, getting to work. I stood in silence, watching him quickly scoop out the appropriate amount. He moved swiftly, barely sparing a second glance at what he was doing. He stepped over to the register, sliding the cup of ice cream over the counter. He quickly punched in the appropriate codes for what I had ordered.

"That'll come out to 9.73 Lien."

I reached down for my wallet, but I didn't feel it in my usual pocket. A feeling of dread came over me as I began to frantically pat myself down, desperately trying to find my wallet. The man let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes. He pursed his lips and nodded to himself.

"You don't have any money on you do you? Let me guess, you tried to get into Beacon, but weren't able to? The name's Morgan and I think both of us can help the other out."

"How did you know that?"

He merely pointed down to my waist, gesturing at Crocea Mors. I felt my face heat up, my eyes flicking to the right in embarrassment, away from the man. Morgan placed his hands down on the counter top, putting his full weight upon his palms.

"Kid, you seem to be in a bit of a bad way. I could use a bit of help around here myself. The way I see it, you help me, I can help you. You work for me, I can give you Lien and a place to stay 'til you get on your feet."

He had moved his right hand from its place in front of him and was holding it out in front of him. I felt a shiver go down my spine. It sounded like a good deal, a great one even. Why did I have such a bad feeling about this anyways? I swallowed my trepidation and shook his hand, a relieved smile appearing on his lips. It almost seemed as though someone had taken a noose from around his neck. Walking around the counter, Morgan clapped me on the shoulder, his smile growing as he did so.

He went over to the front door, flipping over the "Come in We're Open" sign so that it said closed to those outside. Turning around, Morgan headed around to a door that I hadn't originally noticed in the back of the store. Facing me, Morgan gestured to the door behind him, "So you coming or what?"

He opened the door to reveal set of creaky stairs that led up to another door. Pulling a set of keys out of his pocket, Morgan unlocked it, stepping inside.

* * *

"Jaune, the first thing you want to know about being in the food service is that everything is your fault. And nine times out of ten, the customer is a complete idiot. That means of course, you have to keep a bright attitude all the time. Being happy even when the customer hates you tends to make things worse, but that is the best way we can get under their skin."

I had thought Morgan seemed relieved at first, but I wasn't exactly sure. Having a drawn out speech about why customers were awful people wasn't exactly something I had considered in the metaphorical cards. Apparently the downsides to having a ice cream shop and bar is that occasionally who had a super powered Huntsman or Huntress who turned out to be a complete lightweight. It only gets worse when you consider that Vale was near an 'academy that trained a group of hormonal teens that tend to be a bit overconfident.'

This meant Morgan had to learn how to fight and teach his employees how to fight on their own when he wasn't around. Not only that, but buying ice cream was only profitable a few months out of the total year, which is why the shop had to transfer over into a bar during the winter. Those were all Morgan's words, not mine, but his way of putting it had a lot more profanity strewn throughout.

We were in the rooms that Morgan had above the shop, Morgan sitting in a reddish suede chair. The apartments were very similar to the store in both color and of the materials that made up the places. Across from Morgan was a virtually identical chair, the exception being that this one was a gray in color.

I somewhat regretted taking his offer. He had seemed a lot more calm and together when he was working, now it seemed as though he could go ballistic in an instant. I swallowed and attempted to stand straighter, false confidence running through my body. Noticing my trepidation, Morgan sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

"When I first began this job, I thought the best of people. Now?" He kept his head in his hands, not raising his head to address me directly at all. I stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself. I slowly walked over to the chair across from him, sitting down quietly. I placed my hands in my lap, waiting for him to continue speaking. He raised his head to look me in the eyes, "Tell me kid, how well can you handle yourself in a fight?"

"I...can't really fight," I said, rubbing the back of my head in embarrassment. Morgan raised an eyebrow, directing his gaze once more to Crocea Mors.

"So you've decided to walk around with a giant paper weight attached to your hip then? Technology has come really far. You can probably find something smaller; I'm sure it would really help with the inconvenience!"

I winced at his words, taking in the clear sarcasm. He stood up, pacing back and forth in the room. Running his hands through his hair, Morgan turned to me. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but he seemed to think better of whatever he had to say.

"Kid, if you want this job, it means that I'll have to teach you how to fight. Be absolutely useless to me otherwise," Morgan trailed off, the last part of his sentence a whisper.

I nodded my head, eyes focused on his. He let out a huff, "You at least have your Aura unlocked right?"

I sank into the chair, wishing it could swallow me whole. Unfortunately, Morgan immediately realized what my silence must have meant.

"What the hell are they teaching in school!"

* * *

 **Yes, yes, yes. I know that Neo's Semblance is illusions and that she doesn't actually teleport. However, for the sake of the story, it's illusions and teleportation. All will be revealed in time. I have my reasons for doing what I do. Sue me. Pls no don't.**

 **Anyways, Neo and Jaune both have different ways of telling the story. Jaune is more rambling and devoid on details of the situation, whereas Neo is more focused on her surroundings. Of the two, she is the one that builds upon the seriousness of the story and gives more details on how people may feel or seem. Jaune forms the humor of everything, given the fact that he is given the short end to the stick in this situation.**

 **I could go on, but...spoilers.**

 **-** _ **Wolfbrin**_


End file.
